


For The Dead Travel Fast

by shamusiel, Verti



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drama & Romance, Gothic Horror Elements, M/M, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Trans Dande | Leon, Vampires, the cheesy and cliche vampire au we all need
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamusiel/pseuds/shamusiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verti/pseuds/Verti
Summary: The storm will be gone by early morning, when the sun starts to filter through the gloom and the petrichor borders on pungent. Leon knows his family will be fine during it, huddled together safe and warm in their small hut and ignoring the sound of rain tapping at their door.He also knows, around these parts of the woods, the rain is not the only thing that comes tapping.____________________A lost farmer chases his sheep into the forest and stumbles upon a gloomy castle and its enigmatic inhabitant. But as most things found on a dark and stormy night are, his host is not as he seems.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from the creators of demon au and pirate au, we present to you
> 
> whatever the hell this is

1785\. Spring. The month of May brings heavy rain; the type that chills you to the bone and falls like sheets of thin needles against rumbling thunder overhead. 

The storm will be gone by early morning, when the sun starts to filter through the gloom and the petrichor borders on pungent. There will be plenty of time to start overturning the dirt then, so that it may remain damp enough to last through the dense summer that follows. But for now, as the clouds gather and cast an encroaching darkness upon their grass fields, it is time to take shelter.

The animals will be fine, as long as they don’t stray too far out into the open fields or too close to the edges of the pine forest. Leon knows his family will be fine too, huddled together safe and warm in their small hut and ignoring the sound of rain tapping at their door. 

He also knows, around these parts of the woods, the rain is not the only thing that comes tapping.

With the first downpour of the season is the first sign of a fruitful crop, and the start of the many livestock disappearances that will plague the village throughout the year. It’s sparse—as Leon’s family has lost but three animals since the time he started helping around the farm, thankfully— but never inconsistent. By the time the storm has passed, the clouds have cleared and the tapping on their doors has ceased, there will be inevitably something missing from one of their households. Sometimes it’s just a head of sheep; other times, perhaps something more sinister.

He hasn’t heard many accounts of those— _other_ times— besides the stories the village's children like to spread. There’s a creature in the weald, they say in hushed tones, the one responsible for the knocking that happens in the dead of night and the wild of storm. An old wive’s tale, of the shadow that separates from the woods once every moonless night and enters their village; asks over the deafening sound of thunder and rain to be welcomed into your abode. Warnings of what happens when you open up to the knocker, or leave shelter when the tempest is nigh, strengthened only by the occasional animal corpse found at the edge of the forest, drained of all its blood, and the ever more occasional villager who vanishes into thin air. 

Leon doesn’t know how much he believes of this urban legend, given that there are wolves and other beasts that hunt in proximity to their town. The infrequent traveller or poacher too, who would rather take one of their chickens than come asking for a place to stay. These ones can be dealt with relatively easily, so perhaps the knocking is naught but the buffeting of winds, fueled by the imagination of those who have lived in the dark for too long. 

And yet— there _is_ something haunting to the sound in the way it resounds against the wood with too much purpose to just be nature’s squall at their door. Leon doesn’t fancy himself as superstitious, but, he thinks, there is no harm in bolting all entrances down and holding his family close by the hearth until the storm wanes. 

It will pass; as it always does, and it will take whatever the terrors it brings with it. For the time being, that is enough reassurance for them to sleep soundly throughout the rest of the night.

  
  


* * *

  
  


His work starts at the first sign of daybreak. Leon gets up quietly, so as to not disturb the rest of his family. He treads softly over the damp mud floor while he dresses for the day.

Hop’s still asleep on the other side of the room, only the top of his head sticking out of the bundle of linen and boy he’d made himself into overnight. He snores softly and lets out a small hum of comfort when Leon wraps his own blanket over him. Leon allows himself a ruffle of his brother’s hair before he leaves to tend to the animals.

His brother's a growing boy— he needs his rest, even if he does get loud and whiny when he finds out Leon got up early without him again. They always joke about how he can make it up to him once Leon’s old and gray; but that’s ages to come, and Leon’s pretty sure even then he’ll still be trying to do most of the farm work.

He’s always been strong for his age and body, even if life on the farm has left him leaner and scrawnier than what is probably healthy. Years of being the breadwinner of the family have built him sturdy, with broad shoulders and lean muscle that Sonia says he’ll only keep growing into as long as he continues taking her grandmother’s concoctions. Hop, on the other hand, was born to their mother during a famine in deep winter, which made him slightly frailer than most of his age group. He’s been catching up recently with his growth spurts, but with their limited food supply it’ll still be a long, long while before he’s ready to take on even half of the mantle. 

In the meantime, Leon takes care of his family. 

He steps over Missus carefully, and is granted only a scrutinizing glare from the disturbed cat before she tucks her head back under her paws. Cora, on the other hand, perks up immediately at the tread of his footsteps and scampers up to follow as he slips out the back door and heads out into the farm. 

It’s still mostly dark out, with only a bit of sunlight peering over the horizon and painting the sky from navy to orange. Leon gets to work quickly, scattering feed out for the chickens and tending to the cow. He sets Cora loose on the sheep before hunkering down in their back garden to pick some vegetables. Their yield is mostly carrots and other types of roots, and the occasional rhubarb that one of the townsfolk will be willing to trade for some grains— or maybe even a loaf of bread if he harvests enough to compromise with the baker.

He works for a bit longer, pulling up a few more vegetables and turning the soil over after every unrooting. The next time he looks up, the sun is fully in the sky, and there's the sound of movement indoors. 

Then, his brother pokes his head out from behind their backdoor and scowls at the sight of him. “Lee! You didn’t wake me again!”

“Really?” Leon mimes mock-surprise as he straightens up to wipe sweat from his forehead. His shirt is soaked through, and he flaps it a few times to cool down. “My bad, Hop! I’ll remember next time for sure.”

“You _always_ say that! Mum, tell Lee to stop doing all the work by himself.”

“Leon, save some of the work for your brother,” their mother says flippantly from her spot at the hearth. “Now come in for breakfast before you go into the village.”

Breakfast. _Food_. The thought of it makes Leon’s stomach growl, and then he’s quickly putting away his tools for the day. He wipes his hands off on his pants and calls Cora back over as they head back into the house. Hop trails behind them, expression sullen even though he tries not to let Leon see. 

Leon pauses by the door, waiting for him to catch up. “Hey, Hopscotch,” His brother looks up and Leon gives his hair an affectionate tousle. “Y’know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But you always do everything,” Hop whines, still looking put out. “And everyone in the village looks up to you. I wanna do more too!”

God, bless his little brother’s heart. Leon can't help the fond smile that creeps itself onto his face. “You help out plenty around the house,” he says, “ _And_ you’re busy studying under Sonia— you’ve deserved a bit of rest. You’re doing the most work out of all of us.”

Hop still keeps his eyes averted, but Leon can see a little blush rising to his cheeks from his words. He mumbles something like _that’s not true_ under his breath, but allows Leon to throw an arm around his shoulders and lead him over to where their mother is waiting anyway. “Speaking of, ‘ll be off bringing some produce into the town later on. Sure would like some extra hands to help me lug _all_ of those sacks to and fro before I end up breaking something important.”

It’s a lie— he’s had plenty of practice carrying heavy loads— but a well-intentioned one, especially when it finally works in sparking something in his brother. Hop turns to look at their mother with a small but hopeful grin. She nods her permission back, ladling out bowls of whey before them on the table. “Alas, your brother only has two arms at his disposal. You boys be back before nightfall, alright?”

“I wish I had more,” Leon agrees, making Hop nearly snort up a mouthful of food. “Four is ideal. Maybe five. Equally buff and strong.”

“Lee, that’s so weird!”

A smile tugs at their mother’s lips. “Perhaps you could put in a favor this afternoon with the local witch and see what she has to offer.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Leon replies dutifully, and digs into his breakfast.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They set off after eating, with sacks of vegetables thrown over their shoulders and Cora trotting behind as they follow along the dirt trail that winds into town. 

Their village is small, unknown, sectioned off from the rest of the world by the expanse of forest to the east and the range of mountains to the west. At the same time, it’s tight-knit, and self-sufficient, relying more on the exchange of each household’s produce rather than currency. They don’t have much in general, but they make it work, since everyone in the community has something to contribute. Leon’s family has, admittedly, a little less— but they manage to make their ends meet, as long as he keeps to his pace working in the fields, and offering himself up for extra labor. 

Like this, Leon’s garnered quite a reputation in their community: a hard-working, diligent and caring farmer boy, who never asks for anything in return for his help. The bit of gratuity that he comes away with for each errand, though, is always appreciated.

By the time they finish making their rounds in the village, it’s past noon already and they’ve done away with most of their produce save for the small bag of potatoes and carrots on Hop’s back. His brother leads the way out of the far end of the village and up a steep hill of rocks and weeds, chattering all the while about the new words he’s been learning from his lessons. Leon knows most of them, since he’s notunfamiliar with the rows of books Sonia’s grandmother keeps in her house, but Hop learns quick now that he doesn’t have to spend most of his time farming. It’ll only be a matter of time that he’ll surpass his older brother. 

That, Leon thinks, with a swell of pride in his chest, makes everything worth it. 

They reach the top, coming to a stop before a stone hut entangled in vines. There’s a stream of smoke coming out of the roof, white against the pale blue sky; a tell-tale sign that the witches are home.

Or the witch and her granddaughter, since the latter finds the term too outdated for her tastes.

He’s barely raised his hand to knock on the wooden door before it swings open immediately, nearly taking his nose off. For his efforts, and his nose, Leon’s greeted with a flash of red hair and sharp blue eyes.

“You’re late,” Sonia announces, reaching a hand out to yank both of them into the house. “I was wondering when you two would drop by. Gran’s out in the back— I’ll go get her.” With that, she scurries off into a connecting room and disappears behind a large bookshelf.

The hut is cluttered as always, Leon notices as he hauls their last sack of produce into the main room, with open books of archaic writing and loose pages scattered across the floor. Vials of strange colored liquids are stacked along the bookshelves instead, not unlike an in-home apothecary. The cauldron squatting in the center of the room seems to be the source of the smoke they’d seen from outside, with an ominous column of white snaking its way up to the chimney. Now that he’s indoors, he can catch a whiff of whatever is brewing in the pot. It smells sickly sweet, with dark undertones of things that he can’t really name— no doubt some sort of potion they’re cooking up again, and Leon tries to respectfully keep his gaze off of it even as Hop bounds over to get a closer look. Cora sniffs at the air as well, before making a beeline for where Sonia’s dog Yampy is curled up in the corner. 

Leon lets himself wander around for a bit, poking at the bottles on the shelf and examining their contents. The town witch always has the weirdest assortment of medicines; potions that can grant impossible wishes to the drinker, or doom them to a fate worse than death. Witchcraft as it may be, he isn’t one to complain, especially when she has been kind enough to offer her services to help him to finally feel whole. 

A door creaks open somewhere, two pairs of footsteps re-entering the hut. Leon jerks back to staring at nothing in particular, and then settles for inspecting and kicking at the dirt with one foot. 

“Oh, dear me. I didn’t think we’d have visitors this afternoon,” Magnolia says as she makes her way inside, Sonia behind her. “Hop, is it time for your lesson already?”

Hop shakes his head from his spot by the cauldron, “Nope! We’re just here to drop off some vegetables!”

Magnolia’s gaze drifts from his brother to him. Her eyes crinkle up in a fond smile. “So you are. It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you, Leon. Are you well?”

“Of course,” Leon replies, ducking his head. “All thanks to you and your help. The vegetables are the least I— we— can repay you with.”

“Nonsense. Your produce is the freshest in the village. We should be lucky you always spare a bag for us at the end of your trips.” Magnolia gestures with her cane. “Come, sit by the cauldron. Sonia, darling, brew us some tea.”

Sonia nods, heading back off into the other room while Leon joins his brother in sitting by the fire and watching the smoke rise from the boiling pot. They wait in comfortable silence, during which Cora pads back over to lay her head across Leon’s lap. She nuzzles against his thigh and he pets at her absentmindedly just as Sonia returns and hands out four steaming mugs. 

The tea tastes bitter, and grassy, but not entirely unpleasant, even though Leon has yet to really understand the appeal of it over milk or ale. Perhaps drinking hot leaf water is yet another vice of the witches. Hop seems to have taken to it though, which isn't that surprising given how much time he spends here, so Leon takes another sip and decides that it’s not bad.

Magnolia sets her mug back down. “I hear plenty enough about you from Hop while he’s here, but I always like to get it directly from the source. What have you been up to, Leon?”

Farming. Sleeping. Eating. Mostly farming. “Farming, mostly.”

“He wants five extra arms to help him,” Hop adds in. Sonia snickers behind her hand at the image, only to feign innocence at the glare Leon shoots her. 

“Surely there are more things to life than just farming,” Magnolia says and quirks an eyebrow at him when he looks back. Leon feels the back of his neck grow hot. “Although if you really want, I can make that happen—”

“No need,” he waves it off with a small laugh. “I’ve decided I’m fine with just two. And spring is nigh, nowadays. There’s much left to do before—” Leon gestures, vaguely. “Night fall.”

“Ah, yes. How many losses does that make now?”

“Five or six sheep across the village; none of ours,” Leon says. “No villagers yet, but it is only a matter of time.” 

“Generous this time round, isn’t it,” Sonia says, tone dry as she toys with a loose curl from her updo. “If it doesn’t take a villager next time we’ll end up being blamed for the disappearances again.”

Leon winces, but says nothing in return. They’re skirting around it; as most adults in the village tend to do whenever they reach the topic of… the creature in conversation. No one really wants to think about the thing that comes at night, with the cooling animal corpses it leaves in its wake enough of a brutal reminder of its danger. Even Sonia, fiery as she is, seems a bit anxious, referring to it instead with choice words and pointed looks. Nothing like a witch to be wary of the power that names can hold. 

Hop, young as he is, still lacks the subtlety. 

“They’re calling it a vampire,” his brother says, almost excitedly. “The rest of the village children. One of them said one of their sheep had bite marks—just two— on the side of its neck. That’s why it knocks on the door at night too, ‘cause it can’t get you unless you invite it in—” 

The vampire in the woods. The thought sends a shiver up Leon’s spine, and then he’s brushing it off in favor of reaching down to scratch Cora behind the ears again. “They’re just trying to scare you, Hop. ‘s just the wind and the wolves.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Magnolia says lightly. “Rumors are, after all, grounded in truth.”

Leon frowns, “Not all of them, though,” he points out. “The townsfolk paint you and Sonia as a pair of black-hearted witches, and yet you’ve helped me, and my family, in ways that I can’t even begin to describe. Besides the creature, the things they spread about you are terrible— and inaccurate.”

“Aww,” Sonia teases. “You’re so sweet.” Leon fixes her with another stare, because he _is_ serious, but she returns it only with a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not like they can do anything to us besides spread lies; there are still people out there desperate enough to seek Gran out. You’re just the only one who bothered staying around after.” 

“And me,” Hop chimes back in. 

“ _And_ you,” Sonia adds, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Even if you do get on my nerves sometimes, you little runt.”

Hop preens under the attention and praise, going off on some tangent again about what he’s been doing under Sonia’s care. Leon turns back to Magnolia, his brows furrowed. “You said rumors are based on truths, yet no one in the village has actually seen this— vampire— for themselves. How can you be sure?”

“You’re a smart boy, dear,” Magnolia says, and takes another sip from her tea. “More so than those who would take these tall tales at face value. I can see why your brother and the rest of the village idolizes you; always asking about and questioning your place in the world. An old lady like myself, however, would still advise that some things are still best for you to steer clear of.”

Leon frowns. “I don’t understand. You speak as if you know—” 

“When you get to as old as I am, there are some things you learn by default, Leon. Prod too far and you won’t like what meets you on the other end of the stick.”

He doesn’t quite know what to say in response, so Leon settles down, mouth twisted in thought as he drags his fingers through Cora’s red fur. When he looks back up again, Magnolia’s made her way over to the window of the hut and is presently gazing out over the expanse of the village and forest below them. 

“There’s a gale coming,” she says, the creases in her forehead deepening. Leon gets up so he can look too, but sees only clear skies and bright sun. “You two should best hurry home.” 

* * *

  
  


By the time they take their leave, Leon can recognize the gathering of dark clouds in the distance. How Magnolia was able to tell prior, he still doesn’t really know— and probably never will, with how cryptically she speaks all the time. But that’s the least of his concerns right now, he thinks as he ushers Hop down the stone path and back through the village, calling out warnings of the approaching storm for the townsfolk all the while. What matters right now is getting back home; as quickly as possible, and gathering up all the animals and checking the locks before the rain moves in.

A drizzle is already going when they reach home, and Leon gets to work herding the sheep into their pen as it grows to a steady downpour. He gets the last one in, closing the latch to the gate behind her, and breathes a near sigh of relief. The flock will be safe now, confined to the tiny patch of land next to their cottage where they’ll be close enough to remain under supervision for the rest of the night. The creature won’t take what it knows is already owned.

It’s nearly dark when he returns back to the house, jacket held above both his and Cora’s to keep dry and Hop following behind. He spares only the occasional wary glance in the direction of the forest—there’s still time; they’d worked quickly and efficiently with the animals, while their mum tended to the fireplace in the cottage. All that’s left to do is to bolt the doors down and wait out the rest of the night. 

His mum opens the door for them, only to frown at something behind him. “Leon, where’s your brother?”

“He’s—” Leon turns around and finds nothing but empty space. “I thought he was right behind me—” 

There's a small figure running in the opposite direction of their house, barely visible through the sheets of rain. His stomach drops. “Oh, _no._ ”

He takes off, Cora hot on his heels, sprinting through the fields to his brother. He manages to catch up with his longer strides, snagging Hop by the back of the collar to the surprised yelp of his brother and spinning him around in one movement.

“What do you _think_ you’re doing—”

“It’s Wooloo,” Hop says, frantic with hair plastered against his forehead and mud streaked across his face. “I slipped and she ran off before I could calm her down. I was just going to go get her—”

Wooloo. His brother’s favorite sheep. Part of him wants to say leave her— she’ll be gone by morning anyways— but he can’t do that. Not to his brother. “Which way did she go?”

“There,” Hop points. Leon feels the pit in his stomach grow as he stares at and into the cluster of trees that mark the entrance to the forest. “’m sorry, Lee, I should’ve been more careful...” His bottom lip trembles, cheeks wet not only because of the rain now. Leon uses his sleeve to wipe at them, but only really succeeds in smearing more dirt across his face.

“It’s okay, Hop. Head back for now; Cora and I’ll go get her.”

“But Lee, the sky—”

Leon steals a look over his shoulder. It's mostly dark now, shrouded from view by the storm clouds gathering, but there are still a few streaks of red and orange over the horizon. The sun is still up— but not for long. There’s no more time to waste. Leon looks back at his brother.

“I’m going after her,” he promises. “Stay inside with mum, okay?” 

“But what if you’re not back?” Hop’s voice is quavering, ever so slightly. 

Leon swallows. “Then keep the doors locked ‘til morning,” he says. “And I will be.” 

He sends him off, but waits in spot until he’s sure his brother has no intention of turning back. Cora whines beside him and wags her tail urgently. They both know she can’t track the sheep in the damp air, can’t hear its sounds over the sound of thunder as well as she usually does. They’ll have to search on the spot, and that’ll take time; maybe even more than what they have left before sundown, and what Leon is already dwindling away by just standing here. But he needs to see this through— needs to make sure Hop isn’t going to come after him— needs to know that he’ll be safe.  
  
“I know, girl,” Leon says, finally, when his brother is but a speck in the distance. “Let’s go.” 

Then, he turns, and runs straight into the weald.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He ends up searching along the edge of the forest to no avail; she’s strayed away from all the areas he’s taken the time to explore during the daytime. Leon doesn’t really want to think about venturing in further, but Cora had come upon small trail of broken branches and trodden weed that leads into the mass of trees. If they're lucky, it’s the result of a frightened sheep trampling her way through the overgrowth, and following it will bring them straight to her. It _is_ the only option they have left at this point, so Leon steels himself and treks deeper into the forest.

The first thing that hits him is the smell: damp and musky, strengthened by the surrounding barks of pine and the slick mud and wet mulch underneath his feet. It’s practically already dark inside the forest, the sky nearly blocked out by the towering trees with only a bit of red peeking through the tree-fall. 

It won’t be much source of guidance in a short while anyways, but at least he has Cora by his side to lead him back out. Still, he can’t help the order— the reminder— he gives her.

“If you find Wooloo, bring her back first.”

The response he gets is a low and petulant sound, but not one of disagreement. They’ve been over this before. 

They keep looking, following along the trail as it goes deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees have grown denser as well, he can barely see five steps ahead of him, and it is only Cora’s presence that keeps him grounded and moving forward. 

Leon’s also aware now, of how strangely silent it is around them. There’s the sound of his shoes squelching in mud, of course, but everything else seems to have been drowned out by the sound of rain falling on the forest floor. The forest feels oddly serene in a way; devoid of any sign of life or large animal whose movement could disrupt this tranquility.

That is, until he hears the sound of a branch snapping behind him.

All it takes is one slip— one misstep into thin air, brought on by the sudden surge of adrenaline in his veins, and he finds himself tumbling down the slope of a tall hill. There’s the taste of hair and dirt and grass in his mouth and he keeps his eyes screwed shut to keep the mud out, even when he feels himself roll straight into the side of a boulder and bang his ribs painfully against its surface. 

It knocks the breath out of him, but manages to slow his descent. Leon struggles to sit himself up, wincing a bit at the sharp pain that shoots through his wrist from the movement— must’ve landed on it wrong. He spits out a gob of dirt, does it a few more times to get all of it out, then wipes his mouth with his other hand and gets to his feet. 

Vaguely, through the pain, he’s aware that the forest is silent again. 

“... Cora?” 

There’s no answer. Leon calls a bit louder. “Cora?”

He gets nothing, still. 

He calls again, and again, groping around and trying to find some sort of foothold in the slippery slope. His heart is pounding, a tightening in his chest at the thought of a reality that he can’t yet accept, even as the only thing he gets from scrabbling at the mound of dirt is more mud caked over his hands and fingers. 

It— he can’t be, he doesn’t _want_ to be, not when it’s this close to sundown and he can barely even see his own hands and feet because of the encroaching darkness around him, much less what’s _in_ it. Something uncharacteristically desperate works its way out of his throat as Leon finally loosens his grip on the hill and curls into a small ball at the foot of it. The world around him is silent— yet deafening, and he keeps— listening out for the sound of rustling or another branch breaking, the sign of something emerging from the woods behind him. Maybe there really _is_ something out there, and didn’t Magnolia say that there was some truth to the rumors—

He’s barely aware of how much he’s shaking now, chest so tight it hurts and breath coming into gasps. The shadows of the forest feel like they're creeping into his mind, dimming his vision and turning it dark and blurry around the edges. He’s cold and wet and all alone now, with Cora nowhere to be seen and no way out of this dark, dense forest, and at this point, as he pulls his knees in closer and scrunches his eyes shut, Leon can only think: I’m scared, I’m scared, _I’m scared._

His only consolation, between bouts of choked sobs and weak whimpers, is the thought that at least Hop and his mum are warm and safe in the comfort of their home. The thought that follows immediately afterwards, is a bit more morbid; at least they won’t even have to worry about the knocking at night, since the vampire will prolly to find him first.

The image of a single sheep corpse, lying pale and prone next to the outskirts of the forest, burns in his mind brighter than ever.

Will it be his turn next? It'll be Cora, or maybe even Hop, who'll discover him when the clouds finally clear. He doesn't want to imagine what will follow.

Oddly enough, though, it grants him a new thought process and sense of determination— nothing he’s particularly proud of himself for thinking of. There’s no way of getting out, not with his already abysmal sense of direction, but if he wanders deep enough he can spare his family the shock of coming across his body once daylight comes. He’ll just be another villager disappeared off into thin air during the storm; another tale to warn people like him to stay away from the forest and what lurks inside its depths. 

… It’s sort of poetic, now that Leon really thinks about it.

Like that, and he’s standing up again, straightening to the sight of complete pitch blackness around him. He’ll keep going, likely until he can’t anymore, or until the vampire or wolves or something else in the forest gets him. There’s not much he can do anyways, now that the sun is already down. He allows himself another sniffle, and then picks a random direction and starts walking. 

Leon doesn’t know quite how long he walks for; only that the rain beats even harder against his back, and now there’s thunder in the skies. The lightning is fleeting, but it does its job in brightening up the entire forest floor for a brief second, and even that little sliver of light helps somewhat in keeping his fear at bay. 

He uses it to guide his path as well, going in whichever direction he can tell in the split second of illumination has the sparsest cluster of trees, in hopes of finally making it out or maybe a clearing somewhere that he can take shelter.

Leon looks up again at the same time that another strike of lightning lights up the world around him. This time, it doesn’t do so all the way; instead leaving a patch of darkness suspended in the middle of the night sky. The shadow is jagged around the edges, and vast enough to take up almost the entirety of the gap between the treetops.

It’s gone by the next bolt, though, so he shrugs it off as a trick of his eyes and keeps walking. 

He hasn’t eaten anything since this morning and it’s finally starting to show— his head feels light and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing emptiness in his stomach. He’s shaking too, drenched down to his core and feet so sore that they’re practically dragging on the ground even as he forces himself to take one more step after the other. There’s not much room for thought anymore, besides how hungry and cold he is, and how he has to continue on until he simply can’t anymore. He just— needs to keep moving, because anything is better than stopping and having to face what’s on his trail. 

Maybe it is better if he gives up, when it feels like he’s been walking for hours and there’s no sign of the trees letting up around him. He really _is_ lost, probably wandered so deep into the forest that even a search party during the day won’t be able to find him. But it isn’t that disheartening, Leon thinks, considering the fate he’s already resigned for himself.

He walks for longer, and then something catches his attention. A section of the sky that’s more lit up than the rest, even amidst the storm that rages overhead. Reddish and warm in color, and if Leon looks closer, he can just make out of what he surmises to be the pointed top of a roof against the light.

It’s shelter. That lifts something in his chest, and then Leon is hastening his pace, keeping his eyes up as he heads in the direction of the roof. He lets out a short sob of relief when he finally breaks out of the trees, coming to a stop at the beginnings of a narrow road that weaves its way up and around a steep incline.

Following the road brings his gaze to the foot of a vast stone castle. The structure is first-most surrounded by a tall courtyard lined with jagged battlements, whose only possible entrance seems to be the heavy wooden gate that the road he’s standing before leads up to. Behind it, an array of stone towers stretch up into the storm clouds above, foreboding and impenetrable even in the face of the lightning that threatens to strike them down with every time that it streaks across the black sky. The light he’d seen from before had come from the largest and tallest reaching tower— it has its windows open to the storm, projecting the warm glow of lantern light like a beacon in the night.

From the looks of it, someone—some _thing—_ is home.

Despite all of these revelations, Leon feels himself waver. He doesn’t know how far from home he is now at this point, only that he’s never heard of anyone who lives so deep inside the forest, much less in a castle as grandeur as this one. It looks almost befitting of a noble; only that he knows for a fact that this place and its legends are far too treacherous for any nobleman to call it home. 

There’s also that other option that he doesn’t... really want to consider right now.

… Perhaps just a wealthy lord then, and maybe one sympathetic enough to the woods’ circumstances to offer a place for him to stay the night. 

Before Leon knows it, he’s starting the trek up the long winding path to the gate of the castle. He’s still shaking, scared, and very hesitant, but he’s also freezing and starving, and the thought of shelter and maybe even safety is enough to drive the rest of his fears and suspicions to silence. 

On his way up, he teeters a bit at a sudden gust of wind and nearly loses his footing. The sky lights up again with a crack of thunder when he regains it, and Leon thinks he catches a glimpse of another jagged shadow spread across it. Then, it’s disappeared as quickly as before, and he finds himself standing before the wooden gate. 

The gate is weathered and beaten, but still sturdy, and studded with old iron nails all across and two spike-adorned door knockers. He raises one hand to knock.

Before he can, however, a low, drawn-out groan sounds from within, and it opens on its own.

The courtyard is completely dark, save for the light from a single lantern by a door on the inner wall of the castle. Leon makes his way over to it, slow and cautious, shooting looks over his shoulder with every step. He reaches it, and grasps at the single knocker embedded dead center. It isn’t spiked after all, he realizes with another chill— but rather shaped into the horned head of a dragon. He grips the metal ring in the dragon’s mouth and thumps it against the wood thrice; hears the sound resound through the stone walls around him with every knock. 

On the third time, the door creaks open, and he finds himself staring face to face at a young man with deep set eyes and swept back black hair. 

“I— help,” Leon says, just as the man opens his mouth to speak, and then promptly collapses.

  
  


* * *

  
  


His name is Sebastian, he learns later, when he’s helped—almost dragged— by the man into the foyer, dripping mud and rainwater all over the nicely carpeted floor. Sebastian's apparently much shorter and weaker than he is, and he nearly gives out underneath all of Leon's weight before two nearby dark-haired women rush over to steady them. 

“‘M fine,” Leon mumbles as they help right him back onto his feet and introduce themselves. He sways, one of the girls reaching out again at the sight, but manages to keep himself grounded. “Thank you— ‘m fine now, really.” 

“Who are you?” She sets her hands on his shoulders anyways. “Are you lost, traveller?”

“Something of that sort—”

“ _Aria_ ,” The other girl, Camilla, hisses. “Hold your tongue for now— look how freezing wet he is. Go get something to dry the poor man off.”

“It’s— thank you,” Leon says again, when Aria returns with a long cloak and practically bundles him up in it. His teeth are still chattering from the cold, and he tries to get words out best he can. “I-I’m sorry— for intruding, I was chasing a stray sheep in the woods and couldn’t find my way out when it started storming. ’ve been going on for ages trying to find shelter, but it’s been so dark and the wolves are out—” Leon breaks off as another shiver wracks him, causing him to pull the cloak tighter around his shoulders. “C-Could I stay the night, please?”

The trio around him exchanges a short look with each other, so brief that he nearly misses it. 

“You can stay,” Camilla says curtly, after a while. “There are no wolves in this area of the forest.”

Leon sags with near relief, and his knees nearly go out again before he catches himself. “Thank you. I’ll leave at the earliest sign of the morning.”

“Our master is out currently, but he'll be back soon,” Sebastian says, as he starts nudging him further inside the castle. Leon finds himself already staring in awe at what bit of extravagant decor he can see in the dimly lit entrance hall. “You may join him for dinner then— he’ll want to greet you personally as a guest.”

The next while is a bit alarming, to say the least, when Leon is ushered by all three servants up the stairs. He's brought into a spacious room with an awaiting basin filled with lukewarm water and flower petals. It has some semblance to the one they use at home to wash; only much larger and able to fit a whole person in. The servants strip him down immediately, without as much as a blink at his naked body, and toss him into the basin and douse him down with warm water and strong smelling oils. Leon wants to shove all of them out and say that he _knows_ how to bathe himself, _thank you_ , but water keeps getting into his nose and mouth every time he tries to speak. In the end, he really does is sit in a ball and pout as they scrub at him with rough bristle brushes. He’s not _that_ dirty— he thinks, just kind of muddy— and he’s gotten way dirtier than this from working in the fields all day. 

Eventually, they deem him clean enough, once all the mud has been scrubbed off and his hair and skin are oddly softer than he’s used to. They're also very weirdly… fragrant. Like the herbal scent that hangs around Sonia all the time. Sebastian drags him off again into another connecting room— this one even _larger_ than the one he was just in, what?— dresses him in clothes that are also just as soft and nice to touch as his hair is right now. Then, he’s brought back down the stairs again, and through a maze of archways and doors that make his head spin just trying to remember the order and direction. 

When it’s all said and done, Leon finds himself standing at the end of an impossibly long dining table, situated next to a crackling fireplace in the dining room of the castle. He feels as disoriented as Missus after one of her monthly baths, and the smell of the huge spread of food on the table makes his mouth water and his stomach growl impatient and painful.

“Would you like anything else for the time being?” 

Leon turns back to Sebastian. “I— oh,” he takes a moment to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth. “Did… you make all of this?”

“Is it not to your liking?”  
  
“No, of course not—I mean, yes, it is,” Leon says quickly. “It’s amazing. I—’ve never seen this much food in my life. ” He fumbles a bit again, and dips his head in gratitude. “You are an incredible cook. Will you… be eating?”

The servant blinks, before a small smile cracks through his stoic expression. “No, we’ve already eaten, thank you. This was all prepared for you.”

“Oh,” Leon says, still reeling a bit from everything. He doesn’t think he can even fit all of it into his stomach, but he’s certainly going to try. “I… Thank you.”

“Please take a seat— the master will be with you soon.” Sebastian bows once, and takes his leave. 

Leon remains standing for some time, feet affixed to the floor as he takes in everything around him. He’s never been in a place like this before; the ceilings so high up above him that they feel as far away from him as the sky and the halls he’d passed by decorated with an assemblage of tapestries and rich carpeting. Part of him wants to just wander around and explore this almost unearthly fortress, but he’s so starving in the face of the platters of meat and pastries laid before him. He sits down at the edge, sinking into plush velvet cushioning. 

The door on the far end of the hall opens. Leon stiffens up in his seat, turns his head down quickly to avoid eye contact.

A stretch of silence follows, then the sound of light footsteps clipping their way across the floor— the gentle swish and rustle of a cloak— and the master of the house seats himself on the opposite end of the table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone and welcome to this monster we have created!!! we've been talking about this au for nearly 3 months now and we're so excited to share it with you all. it's very self-indulgent and horny
> 
> this first chapter was written entirely by murph/Verti but in future chapters we'll be writing the chapters together
> 
> catch us on twitter [here](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel) and [here](http://twitter.com/murphystoffelis)!
> 
> btw leon is 19 almost 20 in this
> 
> thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon sets his fork aside. “Forgive me, sir, but you’re familiar with the tales of the vampire in the woods?”
> 
> “The servants speak of it often, yes.”
> 
> “... Then you know how dangerous it is to be alone in the forest on a night like this.” 
> 
> “Of course,” he says, after a while. “But I’m well-acquainted with this part of the woods, and I’ve never come across such a creature before. Such things are only rumors, after all.”
> 
> “All rumors are grounded in truth,” Leon mutters out before he can stop himself. “Nothing good comes out of the woods alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11.5k word chapter, go nuts everyone
> 
> this chapter contains explicit sexual content.

“If you keep looking away like that, I might be offended.”

It’s spoken low, but the voice cuts through the silence all the same. Leon flinches visibly, the slightly clipped tone of the words forcing his gaze back up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

Sharp blue eyes, framed with dark lashes and heavy lids, meet him, and Leon feels his apology die in his throat. The man before him is— handsome, to say the least, with strong but graceful features only accentuated by the shadows the candles cast across them. He’s dressed so elegantly too, ruffled white shirt pinned under a dark vest and a long, silken black cloak draped over his broad shoulders. Leon doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone this well-groomed before, not even among the occasional nobles who pass through the village. Suddenly, he feels very self-conscious about his own untucked and half-buttoned shirt and frizzy mess of still-wet hair. 

His host notices him looking, but only inclines his head, a barely contained smile playing at his lips. When he speaks again, it’s with a soft lilt; an accent Leon can’t quite determine. “No, my own apologies for flustering. It’s been ages since I’ve had the pleasure of entertaining a guest.”

“... I didn’t mean to,” Leon says after a while. His voice comes out smaller than he’s used to, and he forces himself to speak up. “I was lost in the woods and this was the only shelter I could find. I’m sorry for intruding… And grateful that you’ve allowed me to stay,” he tacks on at the end quickly. 

“Of course,” his host says back, expression softening. “I’ve heard all about it from the servants; you’ve had a rough journey.” 

“I. Yeah.” He’s making quite the impression right now, isn’t he. Leon isn’t sure where to progress from here, given that he doesn’t remember anything from Sonia’s lessons about talking with a man who looks like he’s been sculpted by the gods. “May I… have your name, sir?”

His host pauses for a moment, as if in thought. “Raihan,” he says, with a note of finality, and almost nods in approval, looking pleased with himself. “No need for formalities, please.”

Raihan. It’s certainly unlike any name he knows from the village, but that only adds to the mysterious nature of the man he’s found himself a dining companion in. Leon mouths the name a few times, getting used to the way it rolls off his tongue. “... It’s a nice name. I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“It means heaven’s flower, in the language of my ancestral home. I’ve always liked the sound of it.” Raihan tilts his head again, waiting.

It takes a few moments to register, and then Leon’s scrambling to introduce himself as well. “Leon,” he offers quickly. “Uh, it means dandelion. In the language of English. And my mum’s back garden.”

“And lion, in Greek.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“It suits you well,” Raihan says, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. Even all the way across the long dining table, Leon thinks he can make out the faint glow of sharp blue eyes against the candle light. “Tell me, then, little lion, how did you find your way to my castle?”

The nickname catches him off guard— off-hand, and a bit patronizing, and not something that anyone’s ever called him before, but… he doesn’t mind it, Leon thinks. It fits, almost, and hearing it sing-songed from his host certainly does help stir up something raw in the pit of his abdomen. Leon realizes it’s just his stomach rumbling, and all the heat that _had_ been pooling there quickly rushes to his face. “I— sorry, I haven’t had anything to eat yet—”

“Oh no, of course,” Raihan says. He gestures to the platters on the table. “Please, help yourself. We can talk while you dine.”

Leon nods and gingerly removes the first silver cover in front of him. The movement sends a sharp pain through his wrist— the same one he’d fallen on earlier. He manages to stop himself from wincing, and opts to pick the fork up with his other hand instead. 

He digs in, cutting into the slab of ham before him and wolfing a large chunk down. It’s… _heavenly_ , salted to perfection and unlike anything he’s ever tasted before, especially after hours of starvation, and Leon doesn’t even wait until the first bite’s gone down before he’s already following it with another. 

Raihan watches him the whole time, a somewhat perturbed expression on his face. Then, he clears his throat, taps at the table with a manicured finger. "... Is it good?"

Leon looks up with his cheeks stuffed full with meat and potatoes. He nods and tries to swallow the food in his mouth, chokes on it, dry-retches, and then pats at his lips with a napkin. Raihan remains silent the whole time. "Yes, thank you, it's very good." 

He winces a bit at the lump he can feel travelling down his gullet. "It's very different from what I get back home. We usually just settle for whey, and maybe some stew made from the vegetables we grow."

“You are a farmer?”

"From... a village on the other side of the forest, I guess. I was chasing my brother's lost sheep when I stumbled upon here." Leon takes a small sip of the drink next to his plate to wash it down, but makes a face at the sudden sour and bitter taste. The liquid is a thick deep red, almost black from the lighting in its cup. From the looks of it, Raihan seems to be sipping the same thing on the other end of the table. Must be some sort of fancy noble drink then, Leon thinks, and forces himself to take another sip. He gags again, to no avail.

"Wine is not to your liking?"

"I. Uh. No?" 

"... I can have the servants bring you some water,” Raihan says, prompting. “Or mead.”

Leon shakes his head, but doesn't dare touch the cup of wine anymore. "I'm okay, thank you. It's really more than enough."

"Very well. You mentioned you have a brother," his host muses again. "Does he run the farm with you?"

"Somewhat. He's been focusing on his studies more recently with So— the town witch. I usually handle most of the farmwork." Leon takes a deep breath, stares at his plate of food before him. Now that he's finally found shelter— had time to calm his nerves from the ordeal of being out and alone in the woods— he thinks of Cora, Wooloo, and Hop. 

Did Cora manage to find Wooloo in the end? If not, did she make it out safely? Perhaps the vampire had gone into the village after all, since it hadn't come for him in the end. He only hopes with all of his being that Hop and his mother had the good sense to keep the door shut like he told them to for the entirety of the storm. But should the vampire have masqueraded as Leon returned from the woods… 

He doesn't have that big of an appetite anymore. “I just want to hurry back to him as soon as the sun rises. I can only hope that my family is safe.”

Raihan’s gaze doesn't leave Leon once, even as he lifts his own cup to his lips. "I’m sure they are fine.” 

The storm has seemed to have died down for a bit, from what he can see outside of the tall window panes lining the side walls of the dining hall, with the lightning strikes and thunder growing less frequent than when he’d been outside. He’s relieved, of course, but the torrential rain has yet to lift. It falls hard enough that finding his way back on foot is still impossible, but not so much that it’ll deter the vampire from entering the village.

“That isn’t the issue,” Leon says back. “I’m worried about how they will pass the night in my absence. We— they live in fear of… what comes out from the forest at night. I don’t know if they would mistake that thing for me and let it in.” He stops for a moment, something dawning on him. “How are you sure that they are safe?”

“There was nothing in the weald when I passed through.” Raihan shrugs. 

Leon sets his fork aside. “Forgive me, sir, but you’re familiar with the tales of the vampire in the woods?”

“The servants speak of it often, yes.”

“... Then you know how dangerous it is to be alone in the forest on a night like this.” 

That makes him pause. Raihan places the cup back down, mouth still stuck in the demure, close-lipped smile he’d been wearing the whole dinner.

“Of course,” he says, after a while. “But I’m well-acquainted with this part of the woods, and I’ve never come across such a creature before. Such things are only rumors, after all.”

“All rumors are grounded in truth,” Leon mutters out before he can stop himself. “Nothing good comes out of the woods alone.”

The smile slips off of his host’s face. 

The room is silent now, sans the quiet crackle of the flame in the fireplace and the muffled beating of the winds against the window. Then— a sharp crack of thunder, a burst of lightning that turns Leon’s vision into shades of black and white. Frozen in his seat, Raihan blends in the shadows around him; nothing but a pair of pale eyes standing out against the dark outline of his silhouette. 

The color of the room returns, and Raihan is breaking eye contact with a light laugh as he turns to observe the downpour outside. “I could say the same for you too, you know. Coming across my home in the middle of the night and asking to be let in impromptu.” A raised eyebrow. “... Perhaps you’re the one we should be looking out for.”

Leon can already feel the blush already rising to his cheeks. “Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It just slipped out—” He breaks off, looking down at his lap and trying his best to shrink in on himself. Perhaps he really should have paid more attention during Sonia’s etiquette lessons, since he’s most definitely offended his host by running his mouth without thinking first. “I’m so sorry, I’m really very grateful that you took me in.” 

“You have the right to be wary,” Raihan says with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to accuse you either; such things should not be taken lightly. But you’re safe here now— nothing out there can hurt you.”

Leon nods, but thinks it’s probably still best to keep his mouth shut for the next while. He could use more food anyways. He shovels another mouthful of hash into his mouth and chews noisily, searches his mind for another conversation starter in hopes of relieving the tense air around the dining table.

“... The potatoes are good.” Perfect.

Raihan cracks a small smile. “I’ll send your compliments to the chef.”

They stay there for longer, making light conversation while Leon clears pretty much all of the plates set before him. Despite his earlier misgivings, Raihan is surprisingly still as warm and welcoming as before, even encouraging him to eat more and even offering to refill some plates. Still, it’s… different from the customs he has back home, where he’s used to roughing Hop up a bit as a sign of affection and joking around with his mother at the dinner table after a day of dirty work in the fields. 

Raihan, on the other hand, comes off with a certain sense of grace; weaving elegant phrases with his dialogue, never really smiling to his fullest extent and hiding his laugh behind the back of his hand. It’s like he’s in a different world on the opposite end of the table, one not dissimilar to the one that the nobles who sometimes pass by the village come from. Eloquent, well-spoken, with an education that’s probably leagues beyond Leon’s, and an air of loftiness around him to boot. 

He feels… _distinct_ from the other nobles he’s met throughout his life. Raihan certainly is much more genuine, considering this is the first time someone of this standing has ever talked to Leon face-to-face, as opposed to courting remarks said from behind a carriage’s curtain. He’s patient, but not condescending, and asks questions about his family, work and life: gets him to elaborate on even the smallest of details, like he’s actually interested in what he has to say.

It’s a new feeling, on Leon’s end. No one’s really bothered to pay this much attention to him back home. Most of the time he’s just better off putting himself to good use in the other villagers’ fields rather than getting to know them. What little conversations they _do_ have are usually just skewed by their perception of him as the village’s golden boy and general source of manual labor. 

Talking to Raihan is nice, he thinks, even if there’s a part of him that’s still kind of intimidated and scared by his current situation in general. His host is certainly secretive, with how little he divulges of his own background in exchange for the questions he asks. But he seems human, at the very least, and his servants as well, no matter how scary and foreboding their home is. That’s good enough luck as any.

Eventually, the candle flame starts to wane, the wicks burned down to stumps. Raihan stands from his chair. He plucks one of the few lit candles left, its weak flame flickering from the movement, lights the lantern by his side and makes his way over to Leon’s side of the table. He offers a hand to him, expectantly.

“Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

They walk through hallways carpeted with fur rugs, past looming archways and the occasional heavy-looking doors that no doubt lead off into some other section of the castle. Raihan brings him up a dark spiralling staircase with dragons engraved into its banister, and then down another series of corridors and doors that make his head spin. The castle feels endless, especially with most of it shrouded in darkness and hidden from the light of the lantern, and as much as he can feel himself itching to see what’s at the end of every hallway they pass, Leon knows he’ll probably never find his way out. And with the cold, creeping edges of darkness and damp, wet smell of the stone fixtures around them...

Leon shivers, pressing closer to Raihan’s side involuntarily. He’s had enough of being lost for a while now.

If Raihan notices the change in his demeanour, he doesn’t say anything.

He isn’t that much older, Leon realizes, now that they’re standing close together. Tall and attractive, for sure, but still with a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that helps soften everything out overall. Looking past the way he holds himself and he’s really just about the same age as Leon, if not a few years older. It’s another peculiar thing he’s noticed of his host, besides the fact that he hadn’t touched any food during dinner... but Leon knows to keep quiet for now. 

They reach the end of one of the many corridors they’ve turned down, stopping in front of a door almost indistinguishable from the others they passed on their way over. Raihan pushes it open with a loud creak. “The servants should have already prepared it for your stay, but please make yourself comfortable.”

“That’s really nice of them, thank you.”

There’s a large bed in the center, shielded from view by a canopy of white sash. “It’s so different from what I’m used to.” It looks twice as big as his and Hop’s beds combined, or maybe even more. He pokes gingerly at the veil, before pushing it aside and sitting on the bed. Leon sinks down almost immediately into its cushy sheets, letting out a surprised yelp. “Soft…!”

“Would you like me to make the bed?”

Raihan’s still waiting in the hall, observing him in the same patient but curious way he’s had since dinner. Only this time, the slowly dwindling lantern light casts something darker and colder over his expression. 

Leon holds his gaze for a bit longer, then drops his eyes down to where his host’s feet remain respectfully outside of the bedroom, toes nearly touching the doorframe. He can feel his fears surfacing again, suspicions whirling through his mind about Raihan’s true identity, but hasn’t he already overstepped his boundaries during their conversation before? It doesn’t feel right to keep holding onto them, not when he’s been welcomed with such hospitality. His host is just polite, is all. 

Also, he doesn’t know how this bed works. 

“... Yes, please.” 

Fortunately, Raihan just makes his way innocently over to a closet on the side of the room. He pulls something long and white from it. “Here, take this as your nightclothes.” 

He’s always just settled for the most oversized shirt he has, but Leon turns the silk nightdress over in his hands and decides that it's a good change. He rubs it against his face, unable to help the little giggle that escapes. “Mm. Soft.”

“So I’ve heard,” Raihan says, but sounds amused. He sheds his cloak on a nearby chair and gently nudges him away from the bed. When Leon looks back up from admiring his dress, Raihan’s already untucked the covers and removed the more fancy-looking pillows, rearranged the bed into something that looks much more similar to the one he has at home now. He straightens up again and brushes his vest off. “There we go, you’ll be able rest much better now.”

Not for the first time tonight, Leon finds himself blushing again in the face of his gorgeous host. He wonders if he can feel the heat from his face from here, and clutches the nightdress to his chest even more tightly. “Thank you. It seemed like a lot of work.” It probably wasn’t, but his host’s small chore has reaped Leon some pretty large rewards— specifically, the sight of his broad shoulders, lithe build and cinched waist, finally visible now that he’s shed his cloak. He’s _so_ attractive. 

“Of course,” Raihan says, not seeming to notice the way Leon’s gaze is busy taking in the rest of his form. “I’ll be out in the morning, but the servants should come find you for breakfast.”

Leon blinks. “So I won’t see you again?” 

“Not likely.” He reaches out to tuck a loose wisp of hair behind Leon’s ear. The movement seems so natural, his touch gentle and cool, but comfortingly so, and Leon almost leans into it. “But it was a pleasure dining with you, little lion. I wish you the best on your journey home.”

There’s a bit of disappointment gnawing at his stomach, that this is probably the last he’ll see of Raihan. Leon thinks he’s actually started to enjoy their time together, after the danger of being eaten or killed has passed. He just happens to be a nobleman living with his servants on the opposite side of the woods— one who’s quite lonely, if how long Raihan lingers in the room is any proof.

Then he thinks of Hop and Cora again, and the feeling is replaced by one of deep worry. He can always come visit Raihan later now that he knows he’s here. “Thank you, again… Raihan. You may as well have saved my life tonight. I’m in your debt.”

“No such thing,” Raihan says lightly. “You’re always welcome here, no matter the circumstances.” He tucks another piece of hair behind his ear, before finally turning away to collect his cloak and lantern. He pauses by the doorway, sparing another glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Leon. Sleep well.”

He does, to a certain extent.

The bed is impossibly comfy when Leon finally lies down, having changed into his also impossibly smooth yet soft nightdress. It feels a bit wrong— he’s used to lying against something much straighter and harder than this, after all. But the weight of everything that’s happened the past day is finally starting to hit him, and his eyelids droop close before he can get anywhere beyond that thought.

He falls asleep to the sound of rain tapping against his window.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The sky still rages outside when he stirs in the middle of the night, the sound of rain on the window pane accompanied by the clap of thunder and the howling of winds.

That wasn’t what woke him. There’s something else too— an off-beat rhythm coming from the inside; a sound he’s used to tuning out along with the rest of the storm. A tapping on the door that asks to be let in. 

He just has to wait it out like he does with his family at home, until it moves onto the next household and tries to tempt its way in there instead. It’ll take its leave when there’s no response; when there’s no sign that anybody’s home. 

The tapping, as it always does, turns into a more incessant series of rapping— then a few light knocks— and then one single, hard knock before it stops for good.

Then, the door creaks open. 

Leon raises his head wearily. The room is pitch-black and quiet. His chamber door is shut and locked, the same way that he’d left it before going to bed. He squints around at his surroundings, but seeing nothing, drops his head back down onto his pillow with a sigh. 

When he closes his eyes again, he dreams of glowing blue eyes peering at him from behind the veil. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When he finally wakes up—properly, this time— it’s still barely light out, but enough to give him a bit of sight in the darkness. The storm has lessened considerably, slowing to nothing more than a heavy drizzle. Leon rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face into more of the pillows he’d slept on. For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t want to get up.

He’s dozing off again when there’s a knock on the door. “Mister Leon?”

Leon jolts up. “I’m up!” He wipes at the drool on his chin and fights his way off of the bed, tripping over tangled sheets and almost eating carpet. The door opens and he freezes in the middle of his wrestling, staring at one of the servants from last night. 

Aria stares back at him, dumbfounded at the sight of Leon trying to strangle the life out of his duvet. She regains her composure quickly, and gives him a short bow. “I’ve been sent to collect you for breakfast. Unless you need more— uh,” the servant looks him over again. “Time?”

“Breakfast?” Leon says hopefully. Wait— there are more important things at hand. “No, I’ll get dressed in a moment! Um, sorry about the mess.” Sheepishly, he pushes all of the fallen pillows and bedsheets back on the bed. 

“Don’t worry! I can wait for you outside.” 

He washes up quickly after that. His farmer clothes have been folded neatly by his bedside, along with the clothes he’d worn last night. Leon hesitates for a moment, before deciding to slip back into his old wear. It’s not like the clothes had been a gift or anything, he reminds himself, especially since he’s going to be leaving today anyways. Though maybe he should ask if he can bring some back for his brother— he’s been in need of new clothes recently anyways.

Aria leads him back through the castle once he’s ready, weaving her brisk way through the same maze that Raihan had last night. Leon doubts he’ll ever be able to map this out on his own, considering he already struggles with getting to Sonia’s house, which is more or less just a straight line through the village. He thinks.

He resigns himself to following behind Aria closely and trying his best not to wander off. It’s a lot harder than he imagines, now that he can see the castle’s interior clearly, and Leon spends most of the time gazing in amazement at the tall arching ceilings and hanging chandeliers. 

“Is Raihan here?” Leon asks, sitting down at the same end of the dining table. He’s kind of hopeful that maybe he hasn’t left yet like he said he would last night— it’s a pretty early morning after all. A word of goodbye would be good, and maybe even a promise to return.

“He left the castle at the break of dawn.” She spares a glance at one of the nearby windows. “We have orders to see you on your way home, but in these conditions our coachman has still yet to return.”

“Coachman?”

“Your driver.” She cracks a small smile. “Master Raihan mentioned that you seemed particularly bad at directions, so he’s made arrangements for you to be brought back by his coachman.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of him.” He doesn’t quite remember mentioning something like that last night over dinner, but it may have well have just slipped his mind with how disoriented he was. Leon shakes it off with a small laugh. “And yeah, that’s sort of why I ended up in this mess in the first place. My mum always says she’s worried I’ll get lost just by standing in our own backyard.” 

“That’s kind of bad.”

“It is.”

“I can bring you back to your room after breakfast, where you can wait until Master Raihan returns for the night,” Aria says. She makes a face. “Ugh. I’ll get another scolding from Camilla if I end up losing our guest again.”

“Uh, sure.” Leon kicks his feet against one of the table legs. “Do you know when the coachman will get here?”

Aria hesitates, and then shakes her head, apologetic. 

* * *

  
  


Breakfast goes by quickly.

The food is just as good as it was last night, but Leon finds himself eating with much less gusto than before, the normally insatiable hunger in his stomach instead replaced by more worrying about his family. By the time he’s done, he’s barely holding frustrated tears back, and Aria guides him back to his room with a somewhat concerned but still awkward look on her face. She’s sympathetic, at least, offering to bring him some books or paper for him to pass the time and to call for her if he ever needs anything. It’s a nice gesture, one that Leon’s not quite used to receiving instead of giving. He manages to stutter out another thanks and apology before she leaves. 

Once she’s gone, Leon has no qualms against sinking down to his knees with another strangled sound and burying his face in his hands to try to slow his breathing and calm the beating of his heart. There’s a whirlwind of emotions going on inside right now, coupled with the same, tight feeling in his chest as before; only this time, he’s actually sound of mind enough to feel every gasp and choke that drops his stomach even lower. 

In the end, he didn’t make it back by sunrise, and that’s as good of an indication as any for his family to assume he’s— gone. Taken by the vampire, presumably, as all of the other villagers who have disappeared should have been. Part of him wonders if any of them had ended up meeting Raihan as well, but his host hadn’t mentioned housing any villager before Leon. Maybe the castle had just been too deep into the woods for anyone _without_ a terrible sense of direction to just stumble across.

Even if Leon had been _incredibly_ lucky, he’s as good as dead to the village until he makes it back. Which, as Aria had said, isn’t going to be until the storm clears and their coachman returns. 

His mother must be so distraught and beside herself, but she’s well-known and liked among the village that they’ll support her even though there’s no one left to man the farm. Sonia and her grandmother will be there as well, and Cora if she’d made it back. And Hop… 

Oh, God. _Hop._

The last sight he’d seen of his brother— face smeared wet with rain, dirt and tears, the barely concealed fear in his voice at the thought of Leon not making it back— it hits him so much harder, now that Leon’s lucid enough to remember how scared Hop had sounded, how afraid and desperate he’d been. The thought of him, alone and waiting for him to return just makes Leon shake harder.

Does his brother think he doomed Leon to his fate? What if he’d gone back into the woods to search for him? Does Hop _blame_ _himself for—_ no, he doesn’t want to think about it. He can’t think about it. It won’t be of any use to him right now. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay, that Hop doesn’t do anything reckless trying to find him, that he doesn't hurt himself in the process. 

He needs to leave now, coachman or not. 

Leon tries to push himself up to his feet, only to wince at the dull throb of his wrist again. He’d forgotten about it for the rest of last night. It’s swollen up since then, the flesh around it tender and painful. He gets up a second time, this time managing to do so without putting any extra weight on his injury.

There had been a road leading off from the castle’s main gate, right? If he can make it there, then maybe he can just follow it all the way back to the village. He just needs to… be able to make his way to the gate first. Preferably, without being caught by the servants.

Leon pokes his head out of the door. Aria is nowhere to be seen, and he takes the chance to step out into the corridor. The hallway stretches down to his right, with nothing but a stone wall to his left— good _,_ Leon thinks. That narrows it down to only one direction he can go in. And he’s not on the ground floor... so he needs to find a staircase. See? He’s doing great already.

He follows the hallway down, counting the archways and doors he passes by again. Did Aria lead him past five or six doors before they got to the stairs? Maybe it had been another five more down this way? Or that way. Five, maybe. Or six. Five. Yeah. (Maybe he _should’ve_ paid more attention.)

Well, there’s no staircase. 

Leon stares almost accusingly at the space on the stone wall where he was _sure_ there had been a set of stairs leading down to the dining room this morning. This is ridiculous. He’s never felt so taunted by the non-existence of something so much in his life. 

At some point, he stops really trying to rationalize his way through his choices, instead just following his gut and general throb of his wrist to choose the next hallway he goes down. The castle looks all the same anyways, with its ornate doors and hanging chandeliers and soft carpeting. The halls he goes down don’t even seem as decorated as the ones he remembers seeing and walking through with Raihan, their walls growing more barren with only a few lanterns and windows to light the way forward. Maybe he should try going through some doors to change it up a little.

Eventually, he comes before a staircase. Whether it’s the same staircase as the one he’d been looking for, he’s not sure. It looks a bit shakier than he remembers, welded dark metal steps twisting their way through the ceiling and straight into the floor rather than descending into a grand, brightly lit dining hall.

Yeah, it probably isn’t.

Oh well. 

Leon sets his foot down on the first step, wincing a bit at how it immediately echoes through the chamber. He changes to tiptoeing, in case any of the servants are alerted to the sound of his footsteps, and holds onto the banister the whole way down. 

It feels weird to wind his way around what feels like a narrow, wall-less tower, but also a bit exciting, like he’s treading through air itself to get to the next floor down. From the looks of it, the staircase goes all the way down and all the way up, with sunlight filtering in from the very top and lighting his path even as he descends. Leon thinks back to the towers he had seen from the outside of the castle— he must be in one of them right now, with the top of the staircase leading up to one of those windows he remembers seeing open to the storm last night. 

In any case, following this all the way down should get him to the first floor. He can find an exit to the outside then, and then navigate his way out of the courtyard and onto the road. 

He reaches the last step, finding himself standing in an empty but spacious chamber, a change from the long corridors he’d been wandering through before. There’s a wooden door off to the side, lined by the only two lanterns in the room. It doesn’t have the detailed carving and intricate door knobs that had decorated the other ones he remembers passing by, resembling more the entrance gates at the front of the castle, embedded with iron nails and a single dragon head knocker.

That’s a good enough indicator as any, and Leon starts making his way over it. 

Halfway to the door, he stops, and listens.

If he strains, he can just make out the sound of something… heavy, being dragged across stone tiles. It sounds solid, not unlike the wooden barrels he sometimes gets paid to lug around at the village’s winery. The person carrying it seems to be struggling, constantly moving and shifting the luggage around but never quite managing to bring it anywhere. 

Is it one of the servants? None of them really strike him as a heavy-lifter, which explains the amount of difficulty he’s hearing through the frame of the door. Maybe he should help out. 

He closes the rest of the distance and tries the handle, only to find it locked. Leon frowns, and then reaches for the knocker; knocks twice, and hard enough he can hear the sound echo through the chamber and down the hall.

The dragging comes to a sudden stop, the person listening carefully.

He jumps at the loud thud as they seem to drop the luggage, then, the sound of footsteps, quick and swift, growing louder and louder like thunder as they draw nearer to the door. Leon scrambles back in sudden cold sweat, feeling sick to his stomach and a million scenarios running through his mind, of the door opening and _something_ shambling its way out from the darkness and now he really wishes he hadn't knocked in the first place—

“What are you _doing_?”

Someone spins him around and Leon yelps, nearly screams, and falls flat on his ass. He stares up Camilla's unamused expression. "I, uh—"

“Why are you outside of your room? Why isn’t Aria with you?”

Leon glances back at the door. It’s closed, and silent, with no sign of footsteps or even movement beyond it. He swallows hard, and looks back at Camilla. “I wanted to...” He changes his thoughts at the last moment. “Explore the castle a bit. I got curious.”

Camilla frowns, “You could have told one of us beforehand.”

“I… forgot. I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, just… there are some places you should stay away from.” Camilla raises her head to look around the chamber instead. “ _This_ one is off-limits. Master’s orders.”

“This one?”

“The dungeons,” She helps him to his feet, brushing the dust off of him with both hands. “It’s easy to get lost down here, and there are a lot of traps and pitfalls that only the Master knows about. He doesn’t want you to get hurt accidentally.” 

“Oh,” Is it bad that Leon feels some part of him warm up at the mention of Raihan? He didn’t know he’d thought that ahead for him. “Thank you, I’m sorry for bothering you again.”

Camilla nods, already beginning to guide him back up the suspended stairwell. “Don’t worry about it. It’s also on Aria for not keeping an eye out, I’ll have to have a word with her later.”

Leon thinks back to the other servant girl’s lament this morning, and feels a twinge of guilt. “I’m sure she has a lot of other things to do and forgot. It’s not her fault I wandered off.”

“We _all_ have a lot of things to do,” Camilla says, kind of tiredly, as she trudges up the steps, their footsteps echoing throughout the chamber. “Since there’s only three of us to manage the entire castle. Sebastian’s been outside in the courtyard for the whole day.”

So he probably would’ve still been caught if he had made it out to the courtyard. Leon frowns, the realization hitting him a second later. “... He wasn’t working down there?” He looks back over his shoulder again at the dungeon door, now nearly out of sight. “I thought I heard noises.”

Camilla pauses at the top of the staircase. 

“My mistake,” she says curtly, and reaches a hand out to help him off onto the ground floor landing. She turns away before Leon can follow up with anything, a jerk of her head as a silent signal for him to follow.

As he does, Leon thinks he can hear the faint sound of dragging start up again.

  
  


* * *

  
  


With his first attempt to escape already foiled, Leon spends the rest of his day lying on the bed and trying not to cry and mope too much about his family. He doesn’t know if he wants to risk venturing out again, not after what he had nearly stumbled upon in the dungeons, and the earful both him and Aria had gotten from Camilla after she had brought him back to his room and the frantic waiting servant. Camilla definitely seems to be in charge, with how easily she deals out admonishments and strict orders for Aria not to let Leon leave his room for the rest of the night. Aria, out of some sort of sheepish apology, had brought up a glass of warm milk for Leon and given him a few more books to pass the time and lighting the candles in the room. 

It’s not like he’s in the mood to read, when all Leon can think about is Hop and his mom and Cora and _Hop_ , but he also can’t bring himself to turn her away, especially when he means well. In the end, he settles for curling up in the small armchair next to the bed, nursing the glass of milk and trying to read through his wet and blurry vision. 

Eventually, when the sun has set and the only light left to aid him is the low candle glow, there comes another soft knock on the door. It’s followed by a few more in quick succession. Leon perks up when the door opens after the third one. 

“Good evening,” Raihan says lightly, stepping into the room. He’s dressed in the same long cloak as the night before, though this time with a dark blue vest and neatly tucked cravat underneath. A small smile blooms across his face as he sees Leon curled up in the chair. “How was your day?”

“... Fine,” He can’t help the small bubble of excitement that wells up in him, even in his current state, and Leon quickly sets his glass and book aside to scamper up to the taller man. “Where were you the whole day?”

Raihan shrugs, “Busy with errands. A lot of times I can only return to the castle at night.” He frowns, one hand reaching out to cup at the side of Leon’s face. Leon stiffens up a bit, but lets Raihan rub a gentle thumb against the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. _Ah, he’s warm._ “What happened?”

Leon blinks, the question catching him off-guard. He can already feel the heat prickling at the back of his eyes again. He pulls back from Raihan’s touch before he can start crying, shaking his head to clear it. “It’s— nothing. I just— I want to go back to my family,” he chokes up anyways. “’m… so worried about them.”

Raihan listens to him stumble over his words, his face carefully blank. “... It’s too dangerous. The coachman won’t be back until a few days later.”

“I _know_ ,” Leon nearly snaps out before reeling his tone in quickly. “I’m just… _please_.” He doesn’t know how he feels about laying this much out in front of Raihan— they’ve only known each other since yesterday, after all, but a whole day of stress and crying has left him tired out and with less of a care in the world about Sonia’s etiquette lessons. “My brother… I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now. I need to go back.” 

His host watches him for a bit longer, before letting out a soft sigh. “I understand your concern, Leon, but I can’t let you go out on your own like this, Leon.” He reaches out again, this time to take Leon’s hand in his, turning it over to inspect the swelling of his wrist. “Stay. Heal. It’ll just be for a few more days, and then we will send you back as soon as possible.”

Raihan’s expression is controlled, but he doesn’t bother to hide the slight furrow of his brows and concerned look in his eyes. Leon sags down, frustration deflating. He can’t take his stress out on them, not when Raihan and his servants have been so good to him after practically saving his life. “... I know. I’m sorry I got angry. I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done already.”

“It’s only a natural response,” Raihan says. “I wouldn’t fault you for being more upset and worried.” He smiles down at him and, after a moment, Leon manages to return it with his own. 

His stomach rumbles, breaking the silence between them. Leon feels heat flood to his face. “Oh. Um. Sorry again.”

But Raihan only laughs, already beginning to lead him out of the room. “It was the reason I came to fetch you, after all. Perhaps we can take your mind off things.”

Dinner is a similar set up, with Leon situated at one end of the table and the only one dining. They spend it talking again, though with a bit less formality this time, now that Leon’s acutely aware of how much he’s actually missed having someone to talk to the whole day. He’s used to always having family and friends in close proximity to talk and joke around with, but... the servants seemed so intent on keeping their distance the entire day, and what he’s seen of the castle is so vast and _empty._ He’s glad that he gets to see Raihan again, even as just someone he can speak on equal terms with to keep his mind off of everything else. 

Raihan isn’t a noble, in contrast to what Leon had previously thought; he just owns the castle by way of family heirloom, and spends most of his time overlooking its maintenance and making transactions with the neighbouring towns, none of which Leon really understands. He _does_ learn that the nearest town is a little less than half a day’s trip by foot, though, which explains why his host has to take his leave from the castle before dawn to make it back by nightfall.

Not quite a monster, after all. 

At the same time, disappointment wells up in his chest. Had Leon really walked that much— gotten _that_ lost— that he’d somehow ended up so far from any sort of town or village? At this rate, it really is hopeless to try and get home as soon as he can. He can only send a few more prayers to Hop and his mother to be safe and wait. 

“I heard from Camilla that you wandered off into the castle today,” Raihan says, later. They’d gone back to the guest room after dinner, with his host insisting on dressing Leon’s wrist before he leaves for the night. 

Leon looks up from where he’d been hyper fixated on watching the other wrap a tight bandage over his hand, and decides Raihan is a much nicer sight to look at. Now that he’s this close, he can take in the dark eyebrows, strong nose and long eyelashes in even more detail, admiring how almost every feature fits and accentuates the grace and beauty of the man before him. God. 

“Yes— I was trying to find a way out. I thought if I followed a staircase to the bottom I’d get to the courtyard, but I ended up in the dungeons. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“It can be dangerous,” Raihan agrees. “The castle is old and full of secrets. Even the servants get lost sometimes.”  
  
“And you don’t?”  
  
“Would you get lost in your own home?”

Leon thinks for a moment. “Probably,” he decides.

Raihan laughs, louder than he has before, and Leon glimpses sharp white teeth. “You are free to explore the castle while you’re here to pass the time,” he offers. “I only ask that you allow one of the servants to accompany you, or else we’ll never be able to find you.”

“You can’t?” Leon blurts out, and then immediately wants to disappear. “Sorry, I meant... You won’t be free to do so?”

“Not before nightfall, no.” Done with the bandaging, Raihan goes to stand. “As much as I would like to, I’m afraid I’m very busy throughout the day. My apologies.”

Before he can stop himself, Leon has a hand out to tug at the edge of his cloak. “Then don’t go yet.”

“You need rest,” his host chides. “It’s been a stressful day.”

Leon tries not to pout, though he knows Raihan is right. But… he doesn’t want the other to leave yet, if it means he has to wait a whole day to see him again. “We were having fun. I want to get to know you more. Just...” He holds Raihan’s gaze for a bit longer, before letting his eyes drift: down his sharp jawline, strong chest, cinched waist, and then even further. “... Stay longer.”

He hopes Raihan’s picked up on his cue, with how the other stills. Which Leon is fine with, since he’s not really sure how to be subtle in the first place. “Do you want me to?”

Leon glances up again. Raihan is watching him, blue eyes curious but intent. He swallows, and nods. “... Yes, please.”

Raihan smiles, a bit wider this time, and for a moment Leon thinks he sees a flash of those sharp fangs again. Then, his host is prying his hand gently off of his cloak. “I have a few things to finish up first,” he says, and tucks a lock back behind Leon’s ear. Leon finds himself leaning more into the touch, eyes slipping close in comfort as he takes in the warm, soft press of his palm against his cheek. “But if you’re awake when I return, we can continue this conversation.”

“Okay,” Leon murmurs out, and lets him pull away. 

  
  


* * *

Leon falls asleep.

It’s so hard not to, what with how soft his bed is. He had changed into the night gown and slid under the blankets with one of the books Aria had brought to him. He wanted to stay up, wanted to wait for Raihan, but he succumbs to exhaustion in what seems like moments. The book is forgotten at his side and his head is turned as he dozes. The last few candles are slowly dying, leaving him in darkness.

What wakes him up is a combination of a few things: the distant rumble of thunder, the patter of rain against the windows (it’s storming again? Just _great_ ), the low knocking at the door. Leon lifts his head groggily, spitting out some hair that had gotten into his mouth, and stares past the canopy to the outline of the door. A flash of lightning illuminates the room briefly, just as the knocking stops and the door begins to creak open.

Ah, is it… is it Raihan? Returning, like he said he would? Oh, at least Leon’s woken up now from all the noise. Sort of, at least. His eyelids are heavy and burning a little, and Leon thinks he might fall asleep again at any moment. He sits up slowly, blinking. There is the sound of footsteps, and another flash of lightning reveals the tall figure just outside the canopy of the bed.

“Raihan?” He breathes out, then startles at the clap of thunder that follows moments later.

“Did I wake you?” Raihan asks, his tone apologetic. Leon swears his eyes are glowing in the dark of the room. “Forgive me.”

“I. Yeah.” Leon rubs his eyes. “S’all right, though. I wanted to wait for you. It’s just so…” He gestures vaguely to the bed; it doesn’t really click that Raihan can’t really see the gesture in the dark. There is barely any moonlight cutting through the storm clouds to offer any light. “Comfortable.”

A low hum of amusement. “I’ve heard.” Leon hears the shuffling of fabric, then the bed dips below an added weight. “Don’t let me keep you up. If you must sleep, then sleep.”

Leon considers it for a moment. Sleeping would be nice, but he’s getting acutely aware of how close Raihan is to him now, and the outline of Raihan’s figure in the dark, every angle and curve exposed with his cloak off. Leon thinks he should ask him to light a candle, or something, just so he can see him better.

“You can stay,” Leon finally says. “Please, stay.” He wonders if Raihan could read his mind as he watches him lean over to relight a candle at the side of the bed. It’s nearly melted, it will only last for a short while, but maybe that’s long enough? It depends on how long this… meeting goes. Raihan _had_ picked up on what Leon wanted, right? He wasn’t being subtle at all, but…

Raihan gives him a small smile, his face now illuminated by the candlelight. “As you wish, Leon.”

He’s so, so handsome, Leon can hardly stand it as he sits there just— _staring_ at him. He’s so handsome and he’s looking at Leon like… that. Not in revulsion, but like he’s worth looking at. They barely know one another, and yet—

Leon runs his hand over the sheets and finds Raihan’s, lacing their fingers together. Raihan doesn’t pull away, he simply glances down at their joined hands. There is a flash of white teeth as his smile widens. Then Raihan is slowly leaning in and…

Their lips meet much more chaste than Leon anticipated. Leon is… _mostly_ inexperienced with kissing. He had kissed the red-headed, freckled farmer boy in the village once, mostly because they both just wanted to know how it felt. It wasn’t spectacular, and they both decided never to do it again. So, frankly, he has no idea what to do in this situation. Doesn’t know where to put his free hand, how to tilt his head, how to move his lips. The kiss breaks before he has time to figure any of it out.

Except now Raihan is planting a kiss to his jaw, trailing down to his neck where he pauses. Maybe for a bit too long. Leon can feel his open mouth against the vulnerable skin of his throat, pointed teeth grazing over his pulse and making it jump in a flash of fear. He’s already deduced Raihan isn’t dangerous, he isn’t the creature that roams the woods, so he has no reason _to_ be scared.

Raihan ends up merely pressing an open-mouthed kiss there. His free hand comes up to cradle the other side of his neck, long fingers pulling his hair out of the way as he presses more and more kisses to the expanse of skin. Leon lets out a shaky sigh, his skin burning hot. Yes, this is what he wanted, this—

“Leon,” Raihan murmurs against his skin. Then he draws back, looking Leon directly in the eyes. That blue gaze pins him in place. It’s intense, and there is… something there. Want; hunger, maybe. It makes a shiver run down Leon’s spine.

The hand on Leon’s neck moves to his cheek. His thumb brushes over Leon’s bottom lip. Softly, Raihan says, “You can say no.”

Leon doesn’t know how to respond. Of course he doesn’t want to say no, of course he wants this, but he’s remembering, quite suddenly, that he’s never laid with anyone before. Never with any of the other men back in the village, even if plenty were interested, and certainly not any handsome, polite upper-class man. Leon hardly ever doubts his own abilities, he’s always willing to try new things, to take on a challenge, but giving his body over is so much different, and yet…

He swallows. The words are stuck in his throat, he doesn’t remember the last time his nerves got the better of him. Leon doesn’t really know what he’s doing; he’s hardly ever had the time or space to even pleasure _himself._ Living in a small cottage and sharing a room with your younger brother makes that hard. Even the smallest of touches from Raihan makes his skin feel like it’s on fire.

“Please,” Leon finally says. “Just know, I’m, ah… well… I’m—”

“A virgin?” Raihan finishes for him. Leon can feel his blush burn hotter in embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Something flashes in Raihan’s eyes, but Leon can’t really place what it is. After a few moments of silence, Raihan’s lips pull into a small smile. “I’ll be sure to be gentle, then.”

When they kiss again, it’s longer this time. Leon pulls his hand from Raihan’s and decides to place them both on the other’s shoulders, fingers curling into his vest. Raihan leans in closer, closer, until Leon is lying back on the bed once more with Raihan hovering over him. Teeth graze over Leon’s bottom lip as Raihan uses one hand to pull the covers off of him, and his fingers catch on the fabric of the night gown.

A sigh escapes Leon when Raihan breaks the kiss to pepper more along his jaw, down the column on his throat that he mouths at almost hungrily, all the way to his exposed collarbone. The collar of the gown dips a little low, it’d only take a small tug to expose the—

Oh, Raihan is pulling back now, loosening his cravat and opening his vest, long fingers popping open the buttons of his shirt. Leon reaches out immediately, pressing his palm to the warm skin of his abdomen, sliding up to one side of his chest, prepared to move over to feel his heartbeat but— Raihan catches his wrist before he can, the touch gentle. He brings his hand up to his lips to press a kiss to each knuckle.

Thunder rumbles again. Leon swallows.

The cravat, vest, and shirt are discarded for the time being. Leon can properly see the lines of Raihan’s body like this, the way muscle shifts under dark skin, the flickering shadows over his form. There isn’t a scar or blemish in sight. He wants to admire it all further, but he’s distracted by Raihan pushing the nightgown up and on instinct he clamps his thighs shut, nearly using an arm to cover his chest as well.

Ah, he should’ve told Raihan about this before, he hopes he won’t be angry at him for not saying anything, or turn him away, or—

Large hands are on his thighs, gently coaxing them open again and exposing Leon’s wet, aching heat to the air of the room. Raihan peers between his legs, then drags his eyes up his body, lingering on his exposed chest before meeting Leon’s gaze once more.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m— uh.” Leon flounders, because he can’t remember the last time anyone’s bothered to compliment him like _that._ “Thanks?”

Raihan snickers. He reaches up to help Leon pull the gown off the rest of the way, then the white fabric is tossed to the side. God, he feels so agonizingly vulnerable right now, completely naked under the man who was only meant to be his host. Does Raihan often bed his guests, or is Leon a special case? He’d like to think he is, but he’s not about to ask. At least not right now. Especially not when Raihan is cupping his breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth. Leon lets out a weak little sound at the sensation—the hot tongue swirling around the brown bud, leaving warm saliva, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive skin.

A throb pulses between his thighs and his hips jerk, seeking friction. Everything feels like too much but not enough, he’s a little dizzy and a little breathless, and now Raihan is moving onto his other nipple and god he can’t _think_ like this. But he doesn’t really want to think about anything right now, not when a very handsome man is clearly interested in… taking him. Some of the weird books in Sonia and her nan’s cottage described it as _deflowering._

The memory makes him laugh softly. Immediately, he’s clapping a hand over his mouth. Raihan lifts his head, blinking owlishly, tilting his head in a way that reminds him of Cora when she hears an unfamiliar sound.

It’s…

Cute?

“Sorry, sorry,” Leon says from behind his hand. “Just remembered something. Carry on.”

Raihan raises his brows, but doesn’t press for anymore answers. He rises up on his knees, pressing a hand to the front of his trousers. Leon can’t see it well in the dim light, but he thinks he can make out a tent in his trousers. Raihan rubs over it, then without further preamble works on doing away with the clothing until he’s completely bare.

Leon can’t help but reach out to feel the sharp angles of his hips, eyes trailing down between Raihan’s legs to land on his cock. It stands at attention, leaking a little already, long and thick and— Leon is a little intimidated, actually. Aroused, but intimidated. He looks back up at Raihan’s face. Then he moves his hand from Raihan’s hip, brushing his fingers over the length of his cock. He’s not really sure how to do this, but Raihan doesn’t seem to have any complaints when he takes hold of it and begins steadily stroking.

He doesn’t really know if he’s doing a good job or not, but Raihan seems to be enjoying it. Leon bites his lip as pre-cum smears over his fingers, and in response he thinks he can feel himself getting wetter. Oh, he hopes he isn’t making a damp patch on the sheets; what would he tell the servants when he has to ask them to clean them? That’d be embarrassing.

Finally, Raihan nudges his hand away, and Leon is about to ask if he was doing it all wrong, but the train of thought is thrown off the moment Raihan has his hand right _there._ Long fingers slipping through his damp folds, gathering up the wetness there, his thumb grazing the stiff clit. Leon lets out a rather undignified sound, then gasps when Raihan begins rubbing steady circles against his cunt.

“Soft and warm,” Raihan muses aloud. “All for me.”

It makes him throb. Leon tries to speak, but all that comes out is a whine. Anything he wanted to say is long forgotten, his mind focused solely on the pleasure between his thighs as Raihan rubs at him and occasionally rolls his thumb over his clit.

A finger slips inside of him then and the sound he makes is drowned out by another clap of thunder. Leon curls his hands into the sheets, feeling his aching wrist throb when he grips too tightly, but he can’t even focus on the pain because everything else feels so, so good. The intrusion takes a moment to get used to, he instinctively clenches down around it, but Raihan stroking one thigh helps calm and relax him.

“Is this good?” Raihan asks, his voice low, almost inaudible beneath the sound of rain pounding against the windows. The wind howls and Leon shudders at the sound.

“Yes,” Leon manages to say. That long finger slips inside further, pumping slowly, getting Leon used to the feeling of being penetrated. The sensation is strange, but so achingly good, setting Leon’s nerves alight and making him squirm. A gasp tumbles from his lips when the finger curls, pressing against a sweet spot inside of him, and he thinks he might come right then and there. Especially when Raihan adds another finger and thrusts them carefully.

Raihan leans over, planting one elbow beside Leon’s head as he ducks his head down to kiss him again. Leon moans into it, sloppily but enthusiastically returning the kiss, suckling on Raihan’s tongue when it presses into his mouth. He cups Raihan’s face gently as they kiss, rocking his hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to his peak, his little sounds more and more eager, desperate, and—

The fingers are gone suddenly and Leon groans in annoyance. It’s quickly shut up by another kiss, however. Raihan settles between his legs, which he spreads wider to properly accommodate him.

“Raihan,” Leon breathes against his lips. He feels the tip of his cock lightly brush over his folds. A grin pulls at his lips. He nips at Raihan’s bottom lip. “Remember, be gentle.”

A little laugh bubbles up in Raihan’s throat. “Of course, you cheeky thing.”

Arms wrap around Raihan’s neck, fingers burying themselves into thick, dark locs. Their foreheads touch as Raihan reaches down to position his cock against Leon’s hole. Then startling blue meet with gold once more and Raihan moves and it—

Leon chokes on a weak little sound. It feels weird, so much different than Raihan’s fingers, stretching him out in a way he’s never been before. It comes with a slight burn, but the wetness between his thighs makes the slide easier. Raihan drops his head and mouths at Leon’s neck again, groaning against his skin, the sound enough to elicit a moan from Leon as well.

When lightning flashes and thunder rumbles closer than before, he jumps and clenches, which clearly startles Raihan somewhat. But he relaxes almost immediately, laughing a little against Leon’s throat before he begins pushing in further. The burn melts away into something more pleasant, Leon steadily gets used to the feeling of being filled like this, and the longer it goes the more he finds himself wanting more of it. He feels a little lightheaded, his face hot and heartbeat loud in his ears.

A shallow thrust is given then, making Leon arch. Blunt nails dig into Raihan’s skin, hard enough to leave marks. Another thrust given, making Leon just about _squeak,_ before Raihan sets a steady pace. Not going in all the way just yet, giving Leon time to get used to it, but it doesn’t take long for him to turn into a panting, drooling mess.

The candle is dying. Its ember is tiny. Shadows dance over Raihan’s face, the flame illuminating in his blue eyes, and when Leon looks up at him he swears Raihan looks— _hungry._

It sends a thrill through him. Leon moans, rocking his hips, hands pressing into the strong muscle of Raihan’s shoulders. Raihan’s beginning to press deeper into him now, large hands taking hold of Leon’s thighs to push them further back. And he fucks Leon slow, deep, pressing kisses down his body and rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of his thigh when he’s startled by the sounds of the storm.

“Raihan, ah, it’s—” Leon swallows thickly. “G-good.”

Raihan kisses his cheek. “I’m glad to hear that.” He groans again with a particularly deep thrust that has Leon arching. The hand moves from Leon’s thighs so he can brace himself on both elbows, then meet Leon’s lips again in a heated, almost bruising kiss, swallowing up the little sounds he makes.

He thinks he’s going to come soon, very soon, too soon. As much as he tries to fight it he can’t, it’s swiftly approaching and he wants to choke out a warning but can’t past his soft sounds. Nails scrabble at Raihan’s back, toes curl, and with a shout drowned out by the storm he comes. His whole body tenses up, then breaks out into tremors. He releases over Raihan’s cock, strained gasps falling from his lips with every thrust into him. Those thrusts grow faster the closer he presumes Raihan is to his own release. All Leon can do is lie there, whimpering and twitching, panting out soft ‘ah’s and ‘yes’s and chants of Raihan’s name until the man pulls out and releases over his belly.

The sensation is an odd one, hot and sticky on his skin, the rest of the release smeared on Raihan’s fingers as he pumps himself with a few whines of his own. Then he’s resting his brow against Leon’s, oddly not seeming as— exhausted; he isn’t panting at all, or even really sweating. Leon’s brain isn’t working well enough to try to figure out why. All he knows is Raihan is looking at him with gentle blue eyes.

“Did I go too hard?” Raihan asks. He looks down at the cum on his hand with a furrowed brow, then to the release on Leon’s belly. Leon laughs breathlessly.

“Maybe a little.” He’s definitely going to be feeling an ache for a while.

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” Leon smiles drowsily up at him. “Just, er— help me clean up a bit?” It’s already starting to feel uncomfortable on his skin. Raihan blinks a few times, then smiles.

“Of course.”

He all but carries Leon off to get him washed off, and Leon struggles to stay awake when Raihan wipes him down with a warm, wet rag. His legs aren’t really working properly, so he sags heavily against his host’s side, letting Raihan practically drag him back into the main room.

The bed looks so heavenly right about now. Leon can worry about whatever mess they left on the sheets in the morning. He parts from Raihan and climbs back in. The storm still rages outside, but in the room it’s warm. Leon crawls under the blankets, watching sleepily as Raihan dresses himself again in the dim light.

“Stay here tonight,” Leon says. It clearly surprises Raihan, who looks up from buttoning his vest with wide eyes. But that expression is gone as soon as it comes, replaced with something much more composed but still kind. “Please.”

“I don’t want to disturb you,” Raihan says. He looks prepared to reach for his cloak, but his hand simply rests on the chair it’s draped over. “You need your rest, especially after…”

“It’ll be fine.” Leon waves his hand dismissively, only to wince when he realizes it’s the one with the sprained wrist. “I’m a heavy sleeper.” Except for tonight, apparently.

Raihan still looks hesitant, infuriatingly enough. He just took his virginity, what is there to be hesitant about? Leon isn’t expecting him to treat him like they’re lovers, or anything, but it’d be nice to be held after sex for a little while. As an extension of hospitality, or something. A little grumble escapes him.

Finally, Raihan sighs with a smile. “All right. Until you fall asleep.”

Leon perks up at that. It’s better than nothing. “Okay.”

When Leon scoots over to give Raihan room, he remembers the long-forgotten book that had been at his side. He passes it to Raihan, who sets it on the bedside table before he slips into the bed next to Leon, though he remains on top of the covers. Propped up on one elbow, cheek against his knuckles as he gazes down at Leon who presses in closer.

He falls asleep to the sound of rain on the window and the sound of the thunder growing farther and farther away.

Oddly enough, even with his face close to Raihan’s chest, it seems still.

But sleep takes him before he can think much more about it.

The candle goes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for enjoying the previous chapter so much! we have a lot planned, so stay tuned.
> 
> [here's some art murphy herself drew a while back](https://twitter.com/MurphyStoffelis/status/1294289742079524865)! not of any scene in particular. You Will Look At It
> 
> quick note: the 1758 date in the first chapter was a typo, it's meant to be 1785 (and was changed to reflect that), around the time gothic literature became popular.
> 
> follow us on twitter [here](http://twitter.com/zhamusiel) and [here](http://twitter.com/murphystoffelis)!
> 
> thanks for reading!


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